The Hunt
by Naeki
Summary: After a coven of hunters decide to move to Forks, Bella is forced to make a choice. Will she fight with hated allies or loved enemies?


_Takes place after __New Moon_**  
Disclaimer: New Moon is property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any characters mentioned in Twilight or New Moon, and I do not claim to. **

**A/N: Yes, this chapter is long. The Cullens will come in soon, I promise.**

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**Heather's POV **

_** February 1st, 1801**_

It had to be the worst day of my life. Of this, I had no doubt. It didn't help that the chatter of vampires and humans droned in my ears, pounding insistently, increasing my agitation.

The young vampire who had monotonously idled next to me finally sat down at my table. She was very young; only looking 14 years old. I was immediately reminded of Zane. Zane, the bastard who changed young girls he fancied, then ditched them. I felt so responsible for the girls he wrecked, being that it was my accident that changed him. But seeing this girl, who obviously was not planning on chatting with me, most likely meant that Zane was going to pay us a visit. Oh joy.

I looked around the dark, damp, gloomy little cave that humans labeled as a pub. No one really ordered any drinks; this was a vampire inhabited pub. All drinks were here purely for show. The occasional human, usually a visitor, would order something now and then. We had no regular humans. Glittering red and gold eyes, the fire making them seem to glow, would have added to the eeriness had my vision been worse. Of course, no one minded, or was at all disturbed by the glowing inhuman eyes. We were comfortable with our own vampiric kind. I looked the girl, who stared at me. Her eyes were a gleaming gold and held an obvious nervousness as they darted around. She was most likely 14, I had decided, so as a human, no one would have permitted her entrance. Luckily for her, she was a vampire, and no one around here really paid mind. You could probably be 8 years old and be completely accepted.

Zane must have told her to come here and find me. Most likely keep me here, or even stalk me if I tried to leave. I had seen Zane before with her, she was his current favorite. He was sick, charming 14 year old girls and changing them. He'd promise them that he would love them forever. Forever in Zane's world is a few months, then, I suppose. He protected her, and she loved him. But I still didn't know her name. She looked like she had regretted the choice to become a vampire, and that she knew that Zane did not love her nearly as much as she loved him.

Then he came in. His shaggy, dark red hair with brighter streaks of red made him look especially evil. If I could've run, then by all means, I would have. But I would've made a ruckus. He stumbled over some tables, the klutz. Finally he leaned against the table, his back to the girl.

"Hey, Heather," he said, with his usual casual, groggy tone. He flashed me a wry, crooked grin that was so disgusting that I fought the urge to rip it off his repulsive excuse for a face. "How's my mate?" I shuddered. I was _not_ his mate. I never would be. I glanced at the girl, who looked like she was hiding pain. How rude, calling me his mate in front of the girl who loved him to no end.

"I don't know," I said, trying hard to hide my irritation. "Ask her, she hasn't talked to me." I tried my hardest to heavily imply that I was most certainly not his mate. I never would be; I was sickened by the thought.

"Hey, Alexandra," he said to her. Alexandra, so that was her name. "Heather been nice to you?" she nodded. It was a lie, unless ignoring someone was an act of complete and utter kindness.

Zane had some crazy idea that I had changed him because I loved him. He also thought fate brought us together. It was a fantasy for him, and would stay that way. He was a curse and a burden, nothing more. I had no kind of affection for the beast that he was. I remembered how little he had changed.

_I wandered the streets. It was a bit past midnight, the moon was high and all traces of people had long gone into their homes. The thirst tugged at my insides. If I didn't hunt soon, I was bound to go insane._

_He sat there, leaning against the wall, shrouded by an alley. He was so tempting, like a feast that had presented itself to me. It begged for me to just drink of its sweet blood and end its life, to which I had no objections._

_He was the kind of person you could tell no one would miss. His hair was ruffled and he was bruised all over. He looked drunk, and had probably had no way to get home. Was I to be the heroine here, and bring him to his home, wherever that may be? Or was I to be the angel of death and descend upon him, ending his misery? My hesitation did not last long. I drank too much blood and killed too many people to be considered a heroine; I did not intend to start now. I picked him up and darted deep within the alley._

_We were shrouded in a veil of complete and total darkness. The moon could not see us, and there were no windows. No one would accidentally get a horror show tonight. I lowered my lips to his hand and bit down._

_His blood was like no other. In fact, his was the only blood I'd tasted that actually tasted as bad as it stank. He reeked of alcohol, so the alcohol had probably been in his system. It was a terrible taste compared to other blood, but I was so thirsty. My venom dripped into his system as the blood continued to gush into my mouth. He looked pained, but only moaned in agony. His torture would end soon in my selfish feeding._

_He would probably be out of blood soon, and die. I would then hide his body to where no one could find it. Maybe even a burial._

_Then I was caught off guard. There was a shriek of a woman, and I turned, dropping my prey. I refused to be caught. I refused to be found out. It was a woman who had been chasing a bandit. Her shoes were most definitely paining her feet and the thief outran her. "Get back here, you scoundrel!" she screamed. She leaned against the alley, catching her breath. He was almost dead and if I was lucky he would die. I could not risk being found out._

_I dropped him, and carried him to the edge of a wood about three miles out from town. I laid him down in a clearing and hoped he would die. I felt a human presence. Maybe it was another bandit a fourth of a mile away? I could still not risk being found. I ran as fast as I could._

_"Please die," I whispered to myself. I ran into the inn, the inn keeper asleep on the job. I slipped into my room without a sound. I looked out the window, gazing at the moon. It was in its waxing phase. I angrily cursed as I sauntered to the bed. His blood was fresh on my lips, and it was a terrible taste. The staleness of it was so sick. I took another look at the moon and slowly stepped to the window._

_"Please die," I said aloud, but still quieted. It was not a whisper. It was a prayer._

_A week later, he came to my room at the inn. It was surprising that he even found me. I felt stalked and was irritated by his presence._

_"What's your name, beautiful?" he asked me. I was surprised and disturbed. I did not want to be flirted with. I tossed my deep mahogany hair away from my face and angrily stepped forward to push him off my ledge._

_"Heather Loxley," I said angrily. "And you are?" I said as polite as my agitation allowed. I desperately wanted to push him off now. Just a little closer…_

_"Zane Herrek," he said. It was the first time, then, that he flashed me his crooked, wry, and sickening smile. I loathed it right then and there. "Fate brought us together, didn't it? It's destiny that you chose me to change; to forever be yours. I'm flattered."_

_The snarl ripped through my throat like a rope snapping and crackling. "No." I said. Anger issues? You could say that I have them. But no one can say they love me. Not now; maybe in 1751, but no, not now. _

_"Heather," he said. Could he not tell that I clearly was not in love with him? "I understand you're probably in denial. But you are the angel that asked me to spend eternity with them. You know you did, we both do."_

_"I meant to kill you." I said plainly. One more step, that's it. I took it._

_"Sure you did," he laughed. That did it. I pushed him off the ledge. I stepped away from my window, giving a second to make sure he wasn't coming back, and swiftly exited the room. Where could I hide? I glanced around and sat in the lobby. Zane wouldn't expect the obvious, he didn't seem the type. But he was completely and utterly disturbing._

_That's when I decided that I hated him. I knew that this man would stalk me until I died._

I looked at him now with the anger of him having never left me alone. It had been 40 years since I changed him. It was the anniversary of that. He had better not remembered, or I would be suffocated with his stale stench.

"Heather, you know what today is?" he asked me, as if on queue. "Our 40th anniversary, that's pretty impressive."

I stood up, ignoring him completely. I left the pub, my mahogany hair fluttered behind me and settled, clinging to my back. The blonde streaks remained rustled.

However, before I could throw the doors away from me, a couple walked right into me. They were vampires; that was obvious from the gold in their eyes. They were definitely not from around here.

"Sorry," The female said. It supported my hypothesis that they weren't from England. Her accent was…Russian maybe?

"It's my fault," I muttered, looking down.

"Have a seat," the man urged me. His accent mirrored hers. I began to step away and back to Zane. "No, with us," he said, chuckling. He put his arm on my shoulder and gently steered me. I didn't feel invaded, like I would have had this been Zane. They led me to an empty corner of the pub and sat down. I was a complete stranger to them. They should have been afraid.

"My name's Katrina," the woman said. Her hair was a light brown, like that of a mouse. Her hair was long and it flowed down her back in curls that went every which way. Her eyes were gold and warm as compared to her cold skin. Her smile was warm as well. Katrina smelled rather lovely, like a pastry I had smelled as I past the bakery every so often.

"I'm Vladimir," the man told me, extending an arm to me. His hair was an odd mix of Katrina's mouse brown and a black. He had gold eyes as well and a rough, but still tender smile. He was muscular, but his muscles were subtle. He smelled like Katrina, though more subtle. They held hands and smiled at one another.

"I'm Heather," I said, shyly. I had forgotten about Zane for now. "You don't look like you're from around here."

"We're not," Vladimir said. "We're from Russia. We left to sail to America. Are you planning to go?" The voyage to America was at the end of the month. I hadn't given any thought of leaving England.

"I wasn't," I answered honestly. "I don't think I could get one now, anyways."

"Oh," Vladimir said. He glanced at Katrina. "We have a spare ticket, if you want to go; unless, of course, you're too attached to England to leave." I thought about it. I could finally get rid of Zane. Brilliant.

"I wouldn't mind," I said, hopefully. Who was I leaving behind? My family was long dead.

"Great," Katrina smiled. She handed me a ticket. "Just go there on the date it says and look for us." I smiled back. Finally, I was going to leave Zane and all of England.

As if on queue, Zane sauntered over. I hate how he did that. Actually, I hated most every part of his being. Alexandra was behind him like a little lost puppy, and she closely resembled one, her eyes big and bright with the hope of leaving.

"I see you met my mate," he said, his repulsive smirk carving into his face again.

"I'm not," I replied fiercely. Vladimir smiled. Was there any time these two did not smile?

"Were you planning on going to America?" he asked.

"I was planning on staying here with Heather and Alexandra," Zane answered casually.

"As if I need your protection," I muttered.

"Heather's coming," Katrina said. Though she didn't smile, her voice smiled. At least, it sounded that way. _Reject the offer!_ I screamed mentally.

"Then we're definitely going, aren't we, Alexandra?" Zane said ebulliently. Alexandra smiled reluctantly. Her big gold eyes looked fearful. I would have been, had I been the one carted along with a sleaze like Zane.

"How did you get so many free tickets?" I asked. Having three spare tickets was highly unusual. Giving them to total strangers was even worse.

"There was a pack of wolves planning on going to America," Katrina said. It was so casual. Though I knew what it meant, I asked more questions.

"Werewolves?" I asked hopefully. Katrina nodded. "You're werewolf hunters?" I nearly squealed. Finally! I had hunted werewolves on occasion. I was not the best there was, not at all. Katrina nodded slowly.

"You don't sound like you're from around here. Why not hunt in England?" I asked.

"We did, but only the one pack that we killed," Vladimir explained. "We killed seven of them, but there were eight of them. The leader slipped away. They were planning on heading to America…maybe to expand? I'm not sure. They had tickets we managed to steal. We give them to people who want to come with us." No doubt the leader would be on the ship, too.

"Two vampires killed seven wolves?" Zane asked, quirking his blood-caked brow.

"Not at once," Vladimir clarified. "We'd be crazy to take them on eight at once! Anyone would! We took them out one by one, that's how we've worked."

"I don't have a death wish," Katrina stated flatly. Zane scoffed; the nerve of him. I doubted that Zane could take on even _half_ of a werewolf.

"I've taken on a whole pack," Zane lied. Katrina and Vladimir sensed the lie, quirking eyebrows simultaneously. Their identical movements were terribly creepy.

"A fib," Alexandra said quietly and softly. Her voice, which I had not heard, was so beautiful. It was soft and angelic, like a glass bell. There was a squeak in the forming of the first word, like her voice had not been used much. Zane ignored her.

"She is right; you have never even _seen_ a werewolf," I said coldly. Alexandra looked up, slightly moving her head, then down again. I could tell it was a subtle nod. I changed the subject a bit. "So you're going to America to kill their leader?"

"It is one of our intentions," Vladimir said, hiding a smile. Katrina flipped away her messy curls. She giggled, which did not suit her mature face. Vladimir hid his smile. They were _so obvious._

_**February 28, 1801**  
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The day was finally here. I never thought it would come. I looked over my room at the inn; the window, the bed, the dresser. I was leaving this place, finally. America had to be better than this little dreary room.

I left the inn and wandered into the forest, to find an animal to feed off of. I needed to be well fed so as not to attack anyone, and I also hoped miserably that I would find _something._ I drank the blood of a fox, though I had always loved the foxes, so I did feel rather terrible.

I arrived early at the dock, seeing Katrina's curly hair dancing in her face and waving to the wind. The mighty ship proudly stood, awaiting its guests to bombard it and give it the joys of carrying people. Vladimir stood next to her, happily. Zane was behind them, as was Alexandra. Maybe my meal had taken longer than I thought. I scanned the crowd as I head towards the group, and my mind stopped. I froze in place.

I recognized that face.

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**A/N: Okay, yes, it was long. No, not everything is revealed yet. It will, give it time. **


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